


The Small Things

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kel returns to Corus, where Wyldon awaits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Small Things

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SMACKDOWN: Team Wyldon at Goldenlake in February 2010.

“You look exhausted.”

Most women would feel indignant at a remark like that, but Keladry accepted it as a mere observation. It was one of the many things Wyldon liked about her: she did not see something that was not there.

“I am,” she admitted, raking her hair back from her face. There were dark circles under his eyes and she was looking wan. Somehow, she found the energy to smile at him. “I didn’t realize New Hope would still be such a challenge once it gained independent township. But now they’re holding elections for officials and I’m expected to oversee and count the votes personally.”

“How did you manage to get away?” Wyldon asked, amused, pausing in his writing. “It sounds like the whole lot of them would have followed you to Corus.”

“They tried,” she said dryly. “But I told them I would bring the votes with me and count them myself, and then bring them back so they can count them themselves and compare them to my number. I think Fanche understood, at least. She shut them up.”

“I like your Mistress Fanche. She’s quite the leader.”

“She is. I probably wouldn’t have made it without her support.”

Wyldon doubted that, but he knew better than to argue. Her modesty was not feigned. He started to go back to those reports—he was tired of Gareth popping unannounced into his study to ask, _Sir Cavall, I know I asked you an hour ago and again an hour before that, but I have to ask again, have you finished writing that report? Jon needs it to compare to this other totally irrelevant report_ —and instead found himself peeking at Keladry as she began to undress. Her body was too strong and solid to be pretty, but he admired her long legs, the hard muscle of her back and her stripes of scars (too many for comfort, really).

Keladry tugged one of his long nightshirts over her head and crawled into his bed, blowing out the candle on the bedside table as she did. The only light was the dying flame on his small desk, and suddenly the reports just didn’t seem worth it anymore.

Blowing out his meager candle, Wyldon undressed in the dark. It was something of a relief to slip under the covers with her, curling his own chilled body around hers. She was already half-asleep and muttered something incoherent—a funny habit, this mumbling in her sleep. She snuggled back against him, fitting her body neatly into his, and immediately fell back into near unconsciousness.

Sleep wasn’t long in coming for him, either.


End file.
